Grey calm start; hot, sunny and windy (from the south) later. Up early and set off at 6.15 a.m. Tug Ampère and two empty pans, Bastia/Lyon, were moored on the sloping quay in Le Pouzin. Took photos of the town La Voulte-sur-Rhône as we passed through, there were just two fishermen on the long sloping stone quay where we’d seen hotel boats moor. Arrived below Beauchastel, lock 6, at 8.00 a.m. The pontoon for us to tie to was set back, with dolphins sticking out at either end, and we could only just see the traffic lights. The red light was on. We heard the keeper give someone a severe telling off for going into the lock without waiting for the green signal, then a small French cruiser came out. The lights stayed on red/green - we waited for the green! Nothing else in there, but we couldn’t see that, we had to wait for the keeper to give us a green light! Into the chamber at 8.25 a.m. rose gently 13.65m and left fifteen minutes later.
The wind was picking up from the south and the rising sun getting hotter. Cars and lorry drivers hooted and waved as they crossed the single track bridge to Charmes-sur-Rhône and we went underneath. Took photos of the distant town on the slopes of a steep hill. Saw a crested grebe, the first we’d seen in years. There were loads of black kites about too. Tug Atlas had two pans of sand which were being unloaded into lorries at Port de Valence, KP112.5. Tug Vaillant pushing two pans went downriver at KP112.5 as we passed the port-de-plaisance of Valence, port d’Epervière. It was crammed full of boats; there were jetskis playing around outside the offline basin and three little sailing catamarans set off upriver as a small cruiser also set off heading upstream from the harbour. Dirty black clouds rolled in from the south, but they soon passed over and back to sunshine again. An old ruined château, called Crussol, occupied a section of rocky ridge on the left bank as we passed the quay at Valence. One cruiser was moored there behind two resident houseboat péniches and an old tug boat. Mike spotted a sunken steam tug and took photos. An open speed boat being driven by a lady under instruction overtook us, a few minutes later another went past heading downriver.
Some schoolkids in catamaran sailing boats were turning by the road bridge in Valence; their trainer (in a red inflatable powered by a large outboard motor) had to rescue one by towing out of the lee of the wall. It was 10.50 a.m. While we were still 3 kms downriver through binoculars we could see the cruiser (which had left the port in Valence as we were passing) was on the pontoon waiting for Bourg-les-Valence, lock N°5. Again the dolphins stuck out to protect the pontoon and we had no hope of mooring behind the Dutch cruiser, so we winded and went back down the lock cut and rested against a large wide dolphin with a central metal staircase. A commercial was coming uphill. Tug Audacieux pushing two pans, one with gas and the other filled with containers, came out of the lock and tug Ampère pushing a workboat went into the chamber. We followed in behind the Dutch cruiser. The keeper asked via VHF if the tug skipper was going to tie a rope on to a floater. We rose very slowly 11.7m. A cruiser flying a Belgian sleep flag went past heading for the lock as we left it. The tug and the cruiser quickly faded into the distance and we turned left into the weirstream at La Roche-de-Glun and tied on the pontoon behind a small French cruiser. Lunch. Gave Mike a hand to run the moped down a plank. He went to get the car just after two. He came back with the car and I gave him a hand to put the moped back on the roof in baking heat. A guy who was launching a small speed boat down the slip came over to have a chat. He said he’d never seen a boat like ours before - it’s been a long while since anyone said that! Two more French boats arrived, a small cruiser and a yacht; and with Mike’s advice they braved the weed and attached themselves to the short finger moorings a bit further towards the weir. Mike had an email from a friend in the UK who’d been mugged on his way home from the pub. He’d managed to stagger back home and got as far as the corner of his street before he collapsed. A neighbour called an ambulance and the police. He spent the night in the hospital and came home next morning with stitches in his head and no glasses, they were broken in the attack (and he was to have problems with double vision for some considerable time afterwards). The robber had stolen just five pounds. There was a Bastille Day “do” on at the yacht club not far from the mooring. Mike looked out around eleven but saw no fireworks, didn’t even hear a distant banger! Some lousy drunk jumped on the pontoon (or maybe even the back deck of the boat) and woke us around 3.40 a.m.
No comments:
Post a Comment